Reconciliation
by Storms in Heaven
Summary: Regulus died heroically and no one knows. Now he waits for his brother, hoping. He wants to ask forgivness. Most of all though, he wants to be told that, finally, he's done something right.
1. Fifteen Years in Purgatory

Regulus died heroically, and no one knows. Now he waits for his brother, hoping. He wants to explain. He wants forgiveness. He wants to be told that finally, he's done something right.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Waiting in Purgatory; Afraid to ask Forgiveness:**

Regulus had only ever wanted approval. When he was little, Sirius had always been his hero; strong, dashing, brave, and of course older. When Mum yelled and Regulus cried, it was Sirius who wiped away his tears and told him he was loved.

It was Sirius who laughed with him. Who took him on grand adventures and pulled him out of trouble at the last minute. It was Sirius who told him he would always be there for him, no matter what. And it was Sirius who abandoned the family because he didn't believe in the 'pureblood crap' their parents were spouting: Sirius who looked on him with disdain when he was too weak to stand up to their parents after he was gone.

He took to hiding in Sirius's room over summer holidays after Sirius left. Mum never thought to check for him there and sometimes he hoped that his brother would walk in and maybe they could talk without the pressures of Gryffindor versus Slytherine. But it never happened.

Regulus didn't want to be a rebel. And he thought, that maybe, if he did what was expected, for once his mother would love him like she should. For a while he thought it was true. But Sirius never forgave him. And deep down, he never forgave himself.

He took the Mark. Mum was so proud, and for a few short months he drowned in her approval. But then he realized that Sirius really had been right. He didn't like what the Dark Lord stood for. He wanted out. But that was impossible.

When he stole the locket, he wasn't trying to gain approval…not really. For once in his cursed life he was trying to do something right, because it was right. And if he lived through this then maybe Sirius would forgive him... if he didn't live through it, well then, Sirius would never know because Regulus wasn't telling anyone but his older brother what he'd done.

When Regulus woke up the Dark Mark wasn't on his arm anymore. Instead there was a dark smear on the pale skin of his forearm. He sat down in front of the blank space where his mother's portrait should have been and cried.

Not because no one was waiting for him; he didn't want to see his mother and father, and Sirius wasn't dead yet. He cried because even in death it seemed he could not escape his past mistakes. He cried because he desperately feared that underneath the dark smear on his arm, the Dark Mark was still there.

Later he stood up and decided to find out if he really was alone in the house… and if he really was in his house.

Light streamed through the windows and he knew instinctively that the front door would not lead to London. He checked the door and to his relief found it locked. He didn't try to unlock it.

As he wandered down the hallway he realized that it seemed brighter. He also noticed that all of the heads of the dead house elves had vanished. Instead in their place halfway down the hallway was a picture of Kreacher. Oddly he was wearing the locket that Regulus had hidden on the dark island and brandishing a kitchen knife. He smiled at the strange picture and ghosted up the stairs.

Hesitantly he checked his parents' rooms. They weren't in the Great and Noble House of Black. For whatever reasons he had been shunted here his parents were not anywhere near. The last report of his life would not be greeted by shrill yells or threats of hexes. Thank the fates for that.

He stopped outside of Sirius's room. Nervously he glanced down at the smear on his arm, looking for the thing that was proof of why his brother hated him; why he would never again see Sirius smile at him, for him. To his surprise it was paler than it had been. Deep down he began to hope.

With a deep breath and a desperate grasp at courage he pushed open his older brother's door. It was empty of course. Sirius hadn't been here since his fifth year at school. Besides, wherever Sirius was, he was still alive. He still hated his little brother – didn't know the sacrifice Regulus had made for him.

It was easy to forget that he was dead. He felt so alive, so real. And he was tired. With a sigh he sprawled on Sirius's bed and gazed up at the Muggle girls Sirius had charmed to the walls until he fell asleep.

He didn't know how long he stayed in Sirius's room. Sometimes he thought he heard pounding on the front door. Other times he dreamed that his mother was downstairs yelling for him. Often he forgot where he was… when it was.

He was fourteen and Sirius had just left to go live with James. Regulus spent most of his time in his brother's room, hoping he would come back, thinking he might save his little brother. His Mum came stalking down the hallway – and he jerked awake.

Things in the house changed when he wasn't looking. The house seemed to dust itself and one day most of the Dark objects went missing. One day he could have sworn someone banished the boggart in the living room, but he was alone in the house and he wasn't even sure there had been a boggart in the living room.

He began to feel as though Sirius was in the house with him, but he could never see him. He was always just around the corner, sulking, stalking, a kettle about to blow. When he slept he thought he could here him having loud angry arguments. Sometimes he thought he was twelve again, but this Sirius sounded older.

He never opened the front door, and he never looked out the windows although sometimes he saw vague shapes when he walked by them. These things didn't bother him as they should. He knew he had been here for a while, but it didn't seem to matter. Time was stagnant here, and he was waiting.

One day he heard Bellatrixe's familiar laugh and his blood ran cold. Then a loud thump came from downstairs. He burst out of Sirius's room and leapt down the stairs. Turning the corner into the entryway he came to a dead halt. There was no sign of his cousin, but his older brother, Sirius, lay unconscious exactly where Regulus had woken up fifteen years ago. He stood stalk still, afraid to approach his brother and prayed to whatever gods were listening that when Sirius came to, he didn't come up swinging.

When Sirius realized he was dead, the first thing he expected to see was James's mischievous smile, maybe hear Lily's warm laugh. He didn't expect to see the door-jamb of Grimmauld Place. He thought perhaps the most recent fiasco had been a dream and he'd actually passed out drunk in the entryway. He lay there for a few minutes absorbing the fact that he didn't have a hangover, and he should, he also didn't remember actually getting drunk.

Furtive movements made him aware of the fact that someone was behind him. He stood slowly and turned, preparing himself for yet another lecture from Molly on responsibility. None came, and as he stared at Regulus in shock he realized that he was really and truly dead.

To be continued... :D But first, REVIEW!


	2. Letting the Prodigal Return

Here's chapter two. I think three will be a bit of an epilogue...

**Letting the Prodigal Return:**

They stared in silence for a long moment. All the things Regulus had wanted to say – the things he had meticulously planned out as he lay on Sirius's bed in a silent and lonely Grimmauld place – did not come. The Sirius standing in front of him was tired and angry and so much older than he had been. Regulus realized that Sirius had suffered… all the things that Regulus had been afraid of, Sirius had lived them. In a way Sirius had taken up Regulus punishment without even realizing it.

Sirius gazed at his brother for another minute. He couldn't think of anything to say. The only thing running through his mind was that he wanted to see James. He didn't want to face his past, his family. He'd suffered months in the place he hated most and all he wanted now was his best friend in the world.

Without a word he turned around and yanked on the door. It didn't budge. He tried unlocking it. Nothing happened. "It's locked." Regulus murmured.

"I can bloody well tell it's locked! Would you mind telling me why?" Sirius turned to face his brother and glared menacingly. Regulus was giving him an odd look, but he was too angry to interpret it.

Regulus gazed at his brother sadly and silently willed him to understand that he wanted to talk, wanted to fix everything that had gone wrong between them. He couldn't stand up under his brother's wrath for long though and looked away. "I, I think I've been keeping it locked." As he said it he realized it was true. "I haven't wanted to see anyone, especially Mother or Father. I – er, I've been waiting for you. I want to talk Sirius, I wanted to say - "

"I don't want to talk to you." Sirius voice was flat and he walked past Regulus without looking at him. He went upstairs into his room and shut the door. Regulus stared at the locked door for a long time, his heart sinking in his chest.

Sirius was so angry. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to face this. Though he rarely admitted it the rejection of his family had hurt: especially the rejection of Regulus. It did not occur to him that his younger brother had been just as hurt over the years.

Regulus wandered the house aimlessly until his restless feet brought him to his brother's door. He was reminded of his first day here, in his personal purgatory, when he had been so afraid to enter this empty room. But it wasn't empty now. The thing he feared was waiting behind it. And the possibility of rejection was even more real now than it had been fifteen years ago. Regulus had had fifteen lonely years to think and hope and look at his past mistakes with slight detachment. Sirius had had fifteen lonely years to hate and resent and suffer for his family's many mistakes.

Regulus closed his eyes. What he wanted most was an apology from Sirius; for leaving him alone, for hating him. But Regulus knew that it wasn't entirely Sirius fault. Regulus had hated and resented too. And if he didn't go in there and make the first move, nothing would be fixed. Eventually Sirius would realize that he could unlock the front door himself and, and…

He took a deep a deep breath, steeled his nerve, and pushed the door open. Sirius ignored him. He lay on his bed facing the wall and tried to pretend that his brother didn't exist. Regulus stared at his back and thought it ironic that the only place in the house that brought either of them comfort had been abandoned twenty years ago.

"Sirus look at me." Sirius ignored him. Regulus hadn't expected anything less, Sirius was as stubborn as a pig. He waited a few minutes and then marched purposefully to the bed. With more strength than he had ever had in life he pulled his brother out of the bed and to his feet. Sirius let out a yell and took a swing at him, but Regulus had been expecting that and retreated quickly.

Sirius was glaring at him again and gasping like and animal about to spring, but at least he was facing him. Before Sirius could do anything Regulus took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry."

Sirius's mouth fell open and he stared at his brother in shock. "What?! Sorry for what? For keeping the damned door locked…"

"I'm sorry for hating you for all those years. I'm sorry I barely spoke to you after you left. I'm sorry I took the Dark Mark. I'm sorry for disappointing you Sirius."

Sirius stared at his younger brother in shock. He had thought there was no hope for his brother years ago, had thought that Regulus was black to the core, just like their parents. His parents had never and never would apologize for the way he had been treated. His brother had disappeared just before he was sent to Azkaban and he had assumed that he had been killed by Aurors, but… He looked at his brothers exposed forearm and started.

"What happened to the Mark?" he watched Regulus look down at his unblemished forearm and smiled ruefully.

"It started fading the minute I woke up here."

Sirius nodded faintly; still not sure he was ready to forgive, but willing to listen. "Was that all you wanted to say?"

Regulus shook his head. "No. I wanted to tell you how I died. I made sure that if I didn't make it no one would know what I had done until it was the end of Him." Sirius stared at his brother in confusion and then sat down on the bed gesturing for Regulus to do likewise. Regulus chose to sit in the desk chair.

"Go ahead." Regulus took a deep breath and continued.

"One day Voldemort asked me for the use of Kreacher." He ignored Sirius growl of distaste. "I, of course, obliged him. You didn't say 'No' to the Dark Lord. Voldemort returned, but I didn't see a sign of Kreacher for days. Finally I commanded him to return to me, and he did, half dead. He told me that Voldemort had taken him to an island in an underground lake where he made him drink a vile potion. Then he placed a locket in a bowl and refilled the potion. He left Kreacher to the inferi in the lake. I was appalled. I'd already been having doubts about making the wrong decision, but I couldn't just leave, I'd be dead for sure then.

'I decided to make my death count for something. I made Kreacher take me to the underground cavern. It was an incredibly eerie place, not entirely natural. There were bodies floating beneath the surface, the inferi that Kreacher had described to me. I knew that if I disturbed the water I was dead so I turned to the potion. At the bottom of the bowl was the locket, and I realized that it was more than that, it was a horcrux. Voldemort was making them to insure his immortality. I knew that if he were eventually to be defeated that this would have to be destroyed first. I had to get it off that island. So I drank the potion down. I ordered Kreacher not to let me stop, no matter what.

'It was hell… terrible… but I didn't stop. Once it was gone I took the locket out and replaced it with another, one with a note in it to Voldemort, or the next person to realize what he was doing I guess. I gave the horcrux to Kreacher and told him to go home, to destroy it… I don't know if he managed… but at least now it's hidden from Voldemort. I made him leave me on the island and the inferi pulled me down and… I woke up here."

There was silence between them for a long moment. Sirius looked pale and maybe a little guilty. "I almost feel bad for how I treated Kreacher these last months." He muttered. Regulus gave a watery chuckle and Sirius looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in twenty years saw his little brother. The boy who had idolized him. The boy who had looked to him for support and comfort, and realized that Regulus had suffered too. Regulus had missed him just as Sirius had refused to miss his little brother.

"I'm sorry too." Sirius said seriously. "I'm sorry for abandoning you… for leaving you with Mother and Father."

Suddenly Regulus was embracing him. All the love that they had denied each other for years was in that hug. And if there were tears in his brother's eyes, Sirius chose not to tease him, because he found that his own cheeks were wet as well.


End file.
